Mark ran back to the Tollivers' house, more for the fun of seeing how fast he could run than for any urgency to it. He squeezed his way back into the house past a group of kids who hadn't seen him before and who gawked and shouted at how fantastic his costume was. Twice, his furry little ass was goosed as he passed through groups of girls. But eventually, Mark made it to the dance floor and again, he was ceded space by the other dancers as an acknowledgement that he would make better use of it than they would. For several songs, Mark stepped lighter, faster and higher than anyone else on the dance floor, actually getting a few claps of applause when he finally stepped off and got himself another soda.
While standing next to a window and gulping a coke, Mark thought to look outside by the dimly lit pool for Zoe. Off at the edge of the concrete apron, he thought he saw her. He slugged down the rest of the soda and started to make his way through the crowd toward the stairway down to the basement, which was the level that the pool was at in the back yard. He was almost to the stairway, when two girls from his class in the 8th grade grabbed a hold of him. Sheila and Suzy. Ugh. Two girls so into social climbing, they probably had sherpas.
"Look at this! Huh, Sheila? Is this the greatest costume, or what? That's Mark St. Martin under all that hair."
"Why are your clothes ripped?" demanded the other one.
Mark could have ripped his hands free from them, but there were people all around and he didn't want to accidentally claw or hurt someone. He sighed.
"My clothes are ripped to simulate having just turned into a werewolf at the sight of the moon and not quite fitting my clothes as a result of the transformation"
Suzy pressed two fingers to Mark's moist black nose.
Mark recoiled. "Ow! That hurts"
"Why should it hurt?"
"Because my real nose is taped back underneath there so that my werewolf nose looks flat and it's already pushed back about as far as it can be. You just pushed it back farther"
"Oh, sorry. So, um, who did this to you? I mean, for you. This really looks authentic"
"I can't tell you. It's a very exclusive shop and they don't want to become a chain or anything. If Tony tells you who made him look exactly like a gorilla or I tell you who made me look like a werewolf, they won't do business with us again"
It was exactly the right button for Mark to push. He watched their eyes go back and forth and their faces contort in expressions of desperation.
"Oh come on, you can tell us"
"If they found out I told someone, they'd probably leave me like this. I can only get the fur off with their special solvent. Nope. Sorry girls."
With that, Mark took off and made it down the stairs as Sheila and Suzy looked for Tony the gorilla.
Mark ran down the stairs and out the game room's sliding door to the pool area. There, he was easily able to scan the darkened area around the pool. He wondered if his eyesight in the dark had been improved with a lupine contribution, but, at any rate, there was no Zoe. There were a few people he knew, a boy from the JV track team, another from the JV swim team and three freshman girls. One of them he recognized as Crawford's present or perhaps former girlfriend. He thought nothing of it, though. The mood around the pool was very upbeat, jokes going back and forth as well as a bottle of the Tollivers' liquor. Tony put off the idea of continuing to search for Zoe and joined in the conversation. The two boys marveled at his costume. The girls were impressed as well but a bit standoffish toward Mark for some reason. Their attitude improved a bit, though, and when some popular songs came bursting forth out the upstairs window, everyone was in a good mood. Mark turned to the boy on the JV swim team.
"I bet I can beat you in two laps of swimming"
The boy glanced around. "I'd say you're on, but I don't have a swimsuit"
"Neither do I" admitted Mark.
"Hmmm. Won't your whole fur thing get screwed up by the water?"
"Nope. Not according to the people who put it on me. They said only this special solvent they've got will take the fur off"
The boy looked around again and nodded. At once, he and Mark pulled off their clothes and jumped in the pool. The other boy and the girls laughed uproariously at the sight. They swam about for a bit and splashed each other and the others, all of whom eventually stripped and jumped in as well. Then Mark raced the boy on the JV swim team. Even with his fur causing tremendous drag, Mark beat the boy by a full body length.
For a while Mark stayed in the pool and played with the others. Finally, he climbed out and made his way to a darkened area by the corner of the house. Mark instinctively shook his head and body like a dog. It worked remarkably well. Most of the water went flying off him. He noticed an air duct spewing forth the hot air from the Tollivers' dryer and stood over that for a minute or so. He was almost completely dry now. So, he went back to the edge of the pool to get his clothes. But they weren't on the rock where he'd left them. He saw everyone else's clothes, but not his. He asked the two girls in the water but they didn't know. He looked for the third girl but she was nowhere to be found. He looked a couple steps into the shrubs outside the pool apron and saw nothing. He turned toward the pool, both hands over his werewolf penis, and heard a step behind him. In a split second, he was in a vise-like bear hug from behind. It was Crawford.
"So you like ambushes? Huh, doggy boy?"
Mark struggled with all his might, but just as he was starting to get his hands free, he and Crawford tumbled to the ground with Crawford on top of him. For a moment, the air was knocked out of Mark's lungs. Down on the ground, he heard Zelnick behind him and felt something being tied to his ankles. He could almost throw Crawford off of him, but every time he started to do so, Zelnick would jump on top of Crawford and knock the air out of Mark's lungs. After one time, Zelnick pulled some kind of set of plastic straps over Mark's head, the apparatus including a piece of oblong rubber that was now tied into Mark's mouth when Zelnick tied the thing tightly behind Mark's head. Mark tried to cry out but could only manage an unintelligible mumble of conversational volume with the thing in his mouth. Finally, Crawford called out "One, two THREE!" in unison and on three, Crawford rolled onto his back still holding Mark in a bear hug and Zelnick immediately tied Mark's wrists with a thick black plastic strap. They tied that strap to a similar one binding Mark's ankles with a third one. They jumped up and laughed at Mark lying there on his side, calling for help and trying with all his newfound strength to break these bonds. But he couldn't. He couldn't even budge them. Crawford and Zelnick laughed and laughed at his futile efforts. Then, they rolled Mark so that he was on all fours, as if imitating a dog. Having his wrists almost touching his knees like that was as far as they could get from his ankles with the connecting strap. Zelnick stood beside Mark, holding Mark there, giggling. Crawford stepped forward and held a plastic cylinder a couple inches diameter and 5 or 6 inches long in front of Mark's face.
"What all the stylish ballet dancers are wearing" he said. Mark was befuddled. Then he felt Crawford's hand at his rear and felt the huge butt plug smashed into his rectum. Mark groaned in pain. Zelnick was in hysterics now, somewhere out past The Riddler for giddiness. Mark felt like his insides would split apart before being able to bear having that object within him, but he heard Crawford laughing and pushing it deeper with a stick. When he finally stopped, both he and Zelnick fell on the ground laughing till they cried, and when they were about to stop, imitating Mark's facial expressions, then laughing again.
Finally, they picked Mark up by the strap between his wrists and ankles and carried him around both the Tolliver house and the next house before tossing him into the trunk of Zelnick's car. Mark was tossed about uncomfortably among tools and a jack for a 10 minute ride before the car stopped and the trunk opened. Zelnick and Crawford looked down and laughed. Without a word, Mark found himself being carried to the front door of a small ranch house. He noticed a truck in the driveway.
It was the dog catcher's truck.
Oh no. Mark had seen the man around town many times. The old guy was nice enough, but he was blind as a bat. It was inexplicable that he still had his driver's license. He made terrible near pileup causing moves on the roads almost every day, some just from the incredibly slow pace he drove. He wore thick glasses that made his own eyes almost invisible to anyone else. How he ever caught any dog was anyone's guess.
At the front door, Crawford rang the bell. Zelnick stood Mark up on the front step so that his knees were a step down.
"Mister Delahanty, sir? I'm real sorry to bother you, but, well, it's the neighbor's dog, Mark. They moved out and a day later, we found Mark here back at their home. We-we were never on very good terms with them, so we don't know how to contact them. We've tried for a month, but in the meantime, Mark here has been terrorizing the neighborhood. I don't know what he eats, but I know that he bites most everyone. We were lucky enough to catch him and put a muzzle on him so that he didn't bite us. But we don't know what to do except bring him to you. We're real sorry about bringing him to you at this time of night, but we don't know what else to do"
Mark looked at the man hopefully. He has to see I'm not a dog, right? But, as the man offered a few words of thanks and consolation to Crawford and Zelnick, he reached down and patted the fur of Tony's head and rubbed his fully lupine ears.
"Ooooh. What a fine coat on him!"
Tony groaned and grunted trying to get the man's attention so he'd look Tony in the eyes. But the man just reached for and rubbed Tony's moist nose through the gag or muzzle on his head.
"Good nose, too. I'm very big on judging the health of a dog by his coat and his nose. What'd you say this dog's name is?"
"Mark" Zelnick offered cheerfully.
"Mark here is a fine healthy dog" said the old man and he gave Mark a friendly pat on the ribs and then another on his left buttock. "Fine healthy dog. But even the physically healthy ones have to be put down sometimes."
Mark screamed into his gag.
With that, the old man asked for their addresses and they told him non-existent streets and numbers.
"It's good timing because I was just about to go back down to the pound to do a few things. Why don't you help me load uh . . "
"Mark"
"-load Mark into one of the cages"
Zelnick carried Mark around to the back of the truck and crammed Mark into a metal mesh cage that Mark thought must have been intended for a pekingnese.
"What kind of dog is he?" asked Mr. Delahanty.
"He's a St. Martin Ballet Hound" said Crawford and Zelnick smirked. "A very unusual breed"
"We don't get many of those Ballet Hounds around here" declared Delahanty. Crawford and Zelnick laughingly agreed.
The ride to the pound should have taken 10 minutes but lasted 20 as a furious Mark watched the ride out the back glass of the truck door. He could see his reflection and his anger increased when he noticed that the rubber gag in his mouth was in the shape of a penis. At last, the truck stopped and Mark could see the sign for the pound out the window of the truck. To his chagrin, the truck was backed right up to a gate, from which he could go directly from the truck to an isolated kennel type chamber. Old man Delehanty opened the gate of the chamber and then backed up the truck. At last, he opened up the back door of the truck. He would almost push Mark from the tiny truck cage into the building without Mark even touching ground outside.
But before doing so, Mark saw a now gloved hand reach for his sex toy muzzle. His spirits soared. With the muzzle off, he'd be able to talk to the man. He could push the same costume line on him and he'd be out of there in a few minutes. But, to Mark's chagrin, the old man now had on a pair of headphones. Mark could hear the big band music loud and clear from inside his cage. Sing Sing Sing With a Swing by Benny Goodman. The old man undid Mark's muzzle and just threw it in the trashcan by the building.
"Mr. Delahanty! I'm Mark St. Martin! I'm not a dog! I'm-I'm a boy, a 13, almost 14 year old boy!" Mark shouted these things at the top of his lungs. Mr. Delehanty never flinched. He hummed along to Benny Goodman and pulled Mark out of the truck and down a short chute onto a concrete floor. Mark landed with a thud. He kept shouting, lying there on his side, bound up by plastic straps. Finally, he heard the truck pull away. Mark let out a groan.
"Unbelievable. Everyone else accepts that I'm a boy with fur glued to him. The old man is certain I'm a fucking dog. Aaarrrggghhh!"
But Mark knew that he had some advantages no mere dog would have. He started working on his straps with his claws. All that regret about how sharp his claws were faded away. With the razor sharp tips of his right hand, he worked the strap between his wrists and ankles to a frayed condition in a few minutes. He flexed with all his might and snapped it when it was two thirds worn through. He got himself to a standing posture and started working on the wrist strap. This was a bit more comfortable for his insides. He needed to shit and the butt plug inside him was bottling up the normal process. Mark worked at the wrist strap for 15 minutes before making much progress. He frayed one edge and tugged with all his might while continuing to saw at it with one claw. This sped things up and at last the wrist strap burst.
"Yes!" Mark shouted for joy. He had the ankle strap off undone a few seconds later. Getting out of his enclosure was the next step but that was easy. The walls didn't go all the way to the ceiling. Mark jumped up and went over the chain link divider with ease. He found the door to the office area was open and he would have walked right out but he saw a tube of crazy glue on the desk. He felt the humiliating plug inside him still stopping his digestive process. He couldn't reach for the plug with his razor sharp claws. He found a thin plastic stick, maybe some sort of mild disciplining device for use with the dogs. Mark squeezed a thick drop of crazy glue onto the end of the stick and then carefully pushed the stick up his anus. He felt the stick hit the plug and held it there for a whole minute. At last, he gave a tug outward. The plug moved, but not much. He pulled harder and the plug slowly moved toward Mark's exit before sliding out all at once with a sort of a -POP-.
Mark was going to throw it in the trash outside but decided to save it for Crawford. He also took the crazy glue. Even if he hadn't been half werewolf, Mark would have run all the way back to the Tollivers fast. But he made the mile and a half in no time. He stopped in the woods behind the house to collect himself and look for Crawford and Zelnick. Sure enough, Zelnick's car was back in almost the same spot. And, on top of that, Mark could see his clothes, at the edge of the woods, thrown haphazardly into a few bushes. Everything was there. Mark pulled on his clothes and started stalking Crawford and Zelnick. He had their scents and as he sniffed by the pool, he detected Crawford. Whoever was talking to him walked away. Mark jumped out from the bushes to the edge of the pool apron. While a startled Crawford just looked at him, Mark kayoed him with an uppercut right. He gave Crawford back his butt plug and made sure that he wouldn't drop it. He made absolutely sure. Next Mark left a still unconscious Crawford in the bushes and started looking for Zelnick. He saw him in the basement game room and in his best Crawford imitation, called for Zelnick to come out by the corner of the house. As soon as Zelnick turned the corner, Mark socked him. He was not quite unconscious but nowhere near fully conscious. There wasn't much time to act, but Mark quickly laid them down next to each other, head to crotch. He unzipped their flies and, with a napkin in hand, pulled each's penis out of his pants. Next, he applied as much crazy glue as he could to the lips, teeth and penis of each. Everything was in place. He went to the pool and gathered a few handfuls of water.
"Oh my god!" he shouted in his best imitation of another, extremely religious boy's voice. "Oh my god! You two are doing the devil's work! The devil's!" This was a phrase he'd heard the boy use. Tony shouted it again for good measure and some people started to filter out of the house to see what was the commotion. Crawford and Zelnick started to wake up, only to find themselves locked in an unbreakable 69. Both had become erect from the passive sucking of the other. A score of kids now gathered at the edge of the pool apron whooping and guffawing at the two homophobic jocks revealed as secret gay lovers. Just a few seconds later they were able to pry themselves apart. They swore that someone, Mark, had played a trick on them, but everyone laughed at their weak excuse. 118 pound Mark? Please!
As he stood in front of the emitter at the end of the night and felt his fur disappearing and his body resuming completely human form, Mark asked Jeff. "You are making sure that the memory of all this doen't disappear, aren't you?"
Jeff nodded with a smile.